Sixteen Hold On
by GoldStarReads
Summary: A story through the years of life, loss and love.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

This couldn't be it. Her greatest fears coming true. This was the reason she built those walls. This was the reason she taught herself to withhold emotions. What did emotions get you? _This_?

Quinn buried her head in her hands as she sat on the weathered steps off their back porch. Or she should say _her _back porch.

Rachel was gone now. The life they built together, was now just her own. There were reminders of Rachel everywhere, but she was alone.

Her eyes began to pool looking at the white daisies in the flowerbed at the base of the deck.

Quinn hadn't even noticed Santana walk around the back of the house until she literally stood directly in front of her. She glanced up to meet Santana's worried eyes and then focused back on the daisies. "She planted these."

"I know Q," Santana said with a sigh sitting next to her oldest friend.

They sat in silence for hours. There was nothing to say. They watched the stems of the daisies bend with the wind. They watched children play fetch with Quinn's German Shepherd. They watched the sun make its descent. And shortly after, they watched fireflies begin twinkling in the twilight sky.

"Rachel liked fireflies," Quinn murmured, finally breaking the silence. "They reminded her of gold stars."

"Makes sense," Santana whispered.

Quinn let out a deep sigh and bit her bottom lip. "I knew I would end up alone."

"Q..."

"No don't... I'm pissed," she choked out between tears. "She said we were strong enough to survive anything. She said she'd never leave. And now I'm here looking at daisies and fireflies. Alone. Because she left me."

Tears erupted and Santana engulfed her friend in a hug. Quinn buried her face in her childhood friend's long dark hair and felt it dampen more with each sob.

Santana placed her chin on top of her friend's head as she broke. Quinn crumbled there in her arms and she searched for the right thing to say.

Finally, she pulled away to look Quinn in the eyes. Her friend's hazel orbs were circumferenced by bloodshot red from all of the tears she shed throughout the day.

"I know it doesn't mean much," she began and took a deep, shaky breath. Quinn looked into her eyes as she continued. "I know it doesn't mean much, but you have to know she fought for you. She fought hard because she wanted a life with you too. It's just... Sometimes, no matter how much you want something and are willing to fight for it, the universe has other plans."

Quinn pressed her eyes shut and let the words sink in. "I just miss her," she sighed. She felt one last tear streak down her alabaster cheek and took in a deep breath.

She opened her eyes to caring brown ones, but not the brown eyes she longed for. So, she placed her head on her friends shoulder and returned her gaze to the night sky, now filled with fluttering gold stars.

_I miss her._


	2. Chapter 2

Age 30 - Part One

This couldn't be happening. This shouldn't be happening. _Why is this happening? _She screamed to herself.

She paced back and forth on the bamboo flooring in her boss' office. After a few minutes of visual steaming, she went to the window overlooking the city and drew in a deep breath.

The ocean usually calmed her. The site of the Golden Gate Bridge usually calmed her. Counting to ten and deep breathing _never_ failed her. Yet somehow, someway, all three failed her today as she turned back to her boss and simply shook her head.

"No," she stated as calmly as she could and shook her head once more.

His response was just as calm. "You're doing the story," he stated and sank into the leather chair behind his desk.

She removed her black-rimmed glasses to pinch the bridge of her nose and began counting to ten again. _One, two, three, four, ffff..._

"...Fffucking shit," she breathed. Her boss stared at her over the rim of his glasses. Maybe she breathed the previous comment a little more audibly than she originally thought. She returned her glasses to her face, ran both hands through her shoulder length, choppy blonde hair, and smoothed out the already flawless grey pantsuit. "Sir, with all due respect..."

He interrupted the thought with a low and deliberate cough. She bit her tongue and glared as he continued. "The story is yours. _You_ are managing editor of the arts and leisure section. _You_ have an 'in' to an interview. She hasn't done press in three years, and you have an in. We're using the in."

"Sir, my relationship is hardly an _in_."

"Quinn, I don't really care what your relationship status is. She knows you. Find a way in."

"And if she refuses an interview with me?" she countered.

Her boss turned to her and smirked. "Then I hope you enjoy RENT."

Quinn turned to the window again and finally felt the calmness she craved. She took a deep breath and smiled because she won. She could sit through RENT. Her boss didn't even have to know that she never requested the interview. She could enjoy free tickets and have a nice night. Or even better, she could give the tickets away. She didn't even need to go. A smile spread across her face when she finished her thoughts. That was until her boss added his final thought. "Because you'll continue going until you get the interview."

Her breath hitched as she turned to look at her boss. The smile she wore and the calmness she felt a moment ago were stolen in an instant.

She would have to have an interview. She would have to speak with her. The girl she hadn't spoken to in three years. Three years. And now she would need to sit down and record answers to questions that she neither wanted to ask, nor hear the response.

Quinn had to admit, she was the perfect Maureen. She didn't miss a note. Not one note. In four shows. Yes. This was the fourth showing of RENT that Quinn was attending.

Quinn shifted in her seat restlessly knowing the final act was coming. It was a wonderful finale. Maybe better than the past three. But this was the final act. Meaning Quinn's opening act was about to begin.

Quinn didn't even bother with a Press Pass the first night. She got a pass the second night, but didn't go backstage after the show. The third night she wandered around the hallway for sixty seconds before leaving.

But today, not only did she have a Press Pass, but she also called the publicist to make arrangements. She was screwed. Today Quinn would see her. Maybe. Quinn could bail. Sneak out. Try again tomorrow.

But before she could even attempt to escape, she was getting ushered to the back hallway with the rest of the press. Unlike the other members of the press, the publicist team sought her out and told her to wait on a very specific bench.

Seven other reporters were in and out of the dressing area within minutes. All of them muttering under their breath about how _she_ couldn't avoid the press forever.

Quinn knew nobody was getting an interview with the person they were there to see. Without her in the story, it was a fluff piece. It was a filler column. It was nothing but a feel good piece for the community to overlook.

If you got her though... _That_ would be a story. That would be headline news. After all this time, she was still the star.

Quinn sat and waited. One by one, other members of the cast filed by her. She smiled politely as they stutter stepped around her, unsure if she was going to ask for an interview with them.

And one by one, they continued on their way. She didn't need an interview with them. After all, if she didn't get the interview she needed, she'd be back tomorrow. Her boss made it perfectly clear she'd be at the show the entire run until she got the interview.

It had been almost an hour since the show ended. After the first twenty minutes, she was the only member of the press there. The publicist team offered her champagne. The first glass was gone in one drink. Now four glasses later, she began looking for another escape route.

Her breath caught when she heard the dressing room door open.

"Well if it isn't Quinn Fabray."

"Noah," she breathed. "But... Why...?"

"Sound stage manager," he said plainly. He still had his Mohawk and casual style as he leaned against the wall. "She won't sign a contract unless they take me." Quinn nodded; still too shocked to form words, let alone a coherent response. "She claims that people still can't learn her pitch, but its really because she was afraid I'd become a Lima loser and move back."

Quinn continued nodding absently as she absorbed the conversation. It was too much. Too much to process. Too many emotions. Too much time had transpired. Too many feelings were beginning to surface that she spent years burying.

"So she stayed in contact with you," Quinn finally assessed. Noah looked away with pierced lips and nodded. "So when she said she needed space and time alone..."

Noah struggled for words knowing the thin line he was straddling. "She wants to talk to you about it herself, Quinn."

"_She_ wants to talk about it? That's funny since I instigated an _interview_ for the fucking arts and leisure section," she fumed. Quinn could literally feel her pulse pounding in her neck as she burned holes through Noah with her classic HBIC stare. It may have taken her a moment, but she was still Quinn Fabray. She put up her stone walls to gaurd her caged heart and responded. "So, she wants to talk now… _You_ tell her I have nothing to say to her."

"Maybe you could just listen then," the familiar voice from behind her stated.

And Quinn's caged heart fell to the floor as soon as she heard the first syllable from the diva's mouth.

The drive to the restaurant was in deafening silence. Quinn tried to talk her way out of dinner, but shockingly, she had no choice in the matter. The term diva had to stem from somewhere after all.

The town car finally pulled to a stop. _Yes_, the drove together. _Yes_, Rachel insisted. _Yes_, Quinn put her jacket and purse between them as a physical barrier during the ride.

When Quinn finally redirected her gaze from her white knuckles she saw her favorite Italian bistro. Her _favorite_ bistro; which was walking distance from her condo.

"I hope this place is acceptable. It happens to be one of my favorites and I am in love with this area of the city," Rachel beamed as the driver opened the door.

"Stalk much?" Quinn mumbled under her breath.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing."

As they walked into the bistro, Rachel was smitten with her choice for dinner. Granted, she had been in San Francisco for two short weeks and had only come to the bistro for a latte with her manager once before, causing some to say it may have been a bit of an embellishment that this was one of her _favorite_ places. But then again, it wasn't an embellishment at all. Standing here in the dim lighting next to Quinn, there was nowhere else she'd rather be.

It was in the perfect area of the city. Noah did a wonderful job choosing the location of her apartment for the next four months. It was what most would call the arts district, but still had that bohemian flare. She had to get into character after all. La vie boheme!

The hostess strutted towards them with an irritating smirk. Rachel was about to greet the girl and ask for a specific area on the patio when her thoughts were interupted.

"Well hello, Quinn," the girl said while leering at Rachel. _Leering_. As if Rachel had no right to be here in this establishment.

"Nicole," Quinn responded without any emotion or eye contact. Apparently, there must have been something very interesting on the ceiling. "We need a table for two."

"_Perfect_," the girl drawled. "I'll put you in my section."

That statement seemed to break Quinn's attention from the ceiling. "Isn't Tim here?"

"No."

"George?"

"No."

"Cassie?"

"Cassie is here, but she's over her head with two tables of twelve. You'll be in my section if you eat here."

Quinn sighed and finally looked down to Rachel who was awestruck by the previous confrontation. "Fine, but inside, not the patio."

"That will be a half hour." Nicole stated and was greeted with a glare from Quinn. "Two tables of twelve, Quinn. Patio or wait the half hour."

The two took their seats. The patio looked as if it was plucked from a romantic comedy set. Views of the water were illuminated by decorative lanterns. And naturally the table was candlelit. Rachel was gleaming. Nicole was smirking. And Quinn, Quinn was searching for a hole to crawl into to get out of this mess.

After minutes of awkward silence that felt like hours, Rachel decided to break the tension.

"So Nicole..." she drawled hoping Quinn would elaborate.

"Is the waitress."

"She also seems to know you."

"She does."

"And..."

"_And_..." Quinn imitated.

"And it seems there is some unresolved tension between you two," Rachel scoffed. "She didn't seem too thrilled to see you here with someone else. And you made great attempts to get out of her being our server."

"I'm not doing this with you."

"Doing what Quinn?"

"Talking about past relationships Rachel," she hissed and then bit her tongue realizing what she just admitted.

"_Relationship..._ huh?"

Rachel gloated. Quinn sank further into her chair. And Nicole refilled their waters and then turned to Rachel. "Maybe if she returned any calls it would be a relationship. But that would require her to let someone in."

Quinn slammed the silverware on the table and excused herself.

Rachel was at a loss for words and looked up to Nicole. Rachel, who had no recollection of ever being speechless, could not form a cohesive thought for _moments_. Moments to Rachel Berry were hours to common folk. "So, you and Quinn..." she finally managed to get out.

"Not really," Nicole said trying to downplay the sting that was inevitable when Quinn Fabray brushed you off. "Don't get me wrong, I tried," Nicole continued and Rachel attempted to hide her jealousy. "But, you can only put yourself out there so many times. She doesn't want to let anyone in. Just when I thought I was making progress, she put up ten more walls."

"She doesn't let anyone in..." Rachel sighed and her eyes drifted in the direction Quinn disappeared to. "What about friends?"

"You seem to be _friends_ with her," Nicole snipped back. Rachel noted the jealous tone and hoped she was more successful at hiding hers.

"We were at one point. But I'm talking about now, in the present. You must be acquaintances from the same circle to have attempted a _relationship_ as you called it."

Nicole scoffed. "The only reason I know her is because she eats here five times a week. And the only friend I've ever seen her with in two years is the Spanish girl."

"Santana."

"Sure."

Rachel looked at the girl dumb founded. Nicole was angry. She was bitter. She was a bitch. But Rachel sympathized with her. God only knows how many times Rachel attempted to break down Quinn's walls.

And at one point in time, she had been successful. But here in the present, Quinn stood in the bathroom reapplying her eyeliner. Each pass of the pencil represented another promise to herself. She would not get hurt. She would not be vulnerable. She would remain distant.

When Quinn returned to the table, Nicole made herself sparse. Quinn didn't need to know that Rachel had paid her off to due so. It was a small price to pay in order to make Quinn Fabray more comfortable.

Rachel was finishing her meal and Quinn was still milking her glass of wine an hour in. The two hadn't spoken since Quinn returned to the table. They hadn't even acknowledged each other.

The angst was eating at Rachel. The pressure was building on Quinn. "So…" Quinn breathed out and her eyes instantly found the divas.

Rachel's breath hitched as she gazed back into Quinn's hazel orbs. Those eyes were invincible as far as Rachel was concerned. Rachel never stood a chance any time she looked into those eyes. It was as if Quinn could literally reach inside of her soul and captivate her entire being with one glance.

Quinn felt it too. But she felt the opposite. As much as Rachel felt as though she was being overtaken by the glance, Quinn felt as though she couldn't help but surrender herself into Rachel. There were sparks of gold in her brown eyes that somehow formed a compass to Quinn. She had no idea where it would lead her, but she knew she needed those eyes to find her direction.

And as Quinn looked into her compass she knew she had to look away in order to survive. She survived the past three years without Rachel's direction. Those eyes lead her to heartbreak.

"…We should probably get started with that interview," she stated and focused on the notebook in front of her. It was a blank page. If only it could be the same between her and Rachel.

Rachel cleared her throat and attempted to regain her composure. It took a moment. Anybody would need a moment to regain their composure after looking into Quinn's eyes.

"You seemed to have disappeared for the past three years."

"I needed some time and space... alone," Rachel said softly as Quinn's knuckles turned white gripping the pen.

"Was there a reason?"

"Isn't there always?" Rachel attempted a laugh, but Quinn's eyes were glued to her notebook as she waited for Rachel to continue. "I had just won my second Tony award and my first Emmy. And my Broadway contract was approaching its end. I had been going non-stop since I was four years old and I needed a moment for me. It was selfish, I will admit. But, I needed it. I learned in my time away. I learned to appreciate the small things, as cliché as it may sound. I learned the importance of things. I learned to miss things. And that's what lead me here. _That's_ why I'm in San Francisco. I missed the emotion. I missed the passion. I missed having a purpose."

Quinn stared blankly at the page absorbing the ulterior meaning of every word Rachel said, but forced herself to overlook it and took a deep breath. "That's enough... Enough for the article," she staggered. "I'll throw something in about the purpose of AIDS awareness program that the company is working with during the show. So thank you for your time," she said, still avoiding Rachel's eyes as she packed up her belongings.

"S-so that's it?" Rachel questioned.

"I heard everything I need for the article, Rachel. I'll send you an advance copy. Thank you again."

And just like that, Quinn was gone. Rachel was alone. And now it was Nicole's turn to feel sympathy towards Rachel. In the form of vegan gelato.

The piece ran after only one round of edits, much to Quinn's relief. It was done and she could finally put it behind her. At least until Santana was standing in front of her with a copy.

"You mean to tell me the hobbit has been in this city for almost a month, you went to four of her shows, you interviewed her, and I find out from your secretary."

Quinn had no response. She stared at her worn sandles and grabbed her wallet. "Farmers market?"

"I wants to split a bag of kettle corn and make fun of the tourists. And I'll buy."

The two picked a spot near the pier and watched the crowds of people imitate flocks of birds. Groups circling without a purpose, just hoping for someone to take the lead.

Quinn was in a daze when suddenly Santana was pulling on her sleeve. "Let's go Q," she rushed, almost frantic. Quinn was about to protest when Santana glared at her. "Now!" She yanked Quinn up, but in her haste spilled the contents of her purse.

Quinn kneeled leisurely next to the frantic Latina scooping up her belongings. Quinn noticed a shadow cast over her friends face and then turned to see what was blocking the sun that had just been in her eyes.

_Ffffffucking shit_. She cursed under her breath when she saw the diva standing looking radiant as ever. The sun was literally giving her a halo. Quinn turned away as soon as she registered her staring.

Santana finally gained her bearings, stood and put herself directly between Quinn and the diva.

"Hello Santana," Rachel said cordially. She willed herself to exude some form of confidence around the Latina.

"Why don't we cut the bullshit and you go back to your land of body guards Treasure Trail."

Quinn winced at the insult and could feel Rachel looking to her for some sort of defense. But, instead Quinn gathered the rest of Santana's belongings and turned away in attempt to avoid the confrontation in front of her.

"I actually was hoping to have a word with Quinn, Santana."

"Oh were you? Well here's a word for you. You lost any right to say any words to her _years_ ago. So why don't you go take some _time and space_ and think about _that_."

"Enough Santana," Quinn attempted,and Rachel's heart fluttered. _Her hero_. But Santana had no mercy.

"And while you're at it, tell Puck to work on his stalker-azzi skills and leave Quinn alone." This got a mutual shocked reaction from both the blonde and the diva. "Oh listen here Q, it gets good. I saw him creeping around your condo about a month ago. Said he was visiting. Come to find he was looking for apartments for man hands."

Quinn went pale as she attempted her breathing exercises with no avail. "I'll be in the car," she whispered, willing herself to avoid the eyes focused on her reaction.

Rachel watched her go and turned to Santana's glare. "I-I had-I had no idea," she stuttered looking back to Quinn as she disappeared into the parking lot.

"I know," Santana spit back filing her nails.

Rachel turned back to her with a furrowed brow, "But you just..."

"Save it," Santana interrupted. "You're here. In her city. For four months. And _she_ had to interview you. And you haven't spoken for years. Because _you_ needed time and space." Santana paused between each thought in hopes that the words would sink in. "You wanted time and space. And it took her a long time to get back on track after that. So, now you're in the same city, and _she's_ going to need some time and space. Puck already moved you in a block away from her. I'm just saying you need to find a new place to get your organic vegan crap."

Santana watched as Rachel absorbed each word. Each fact. She was pleased with herself. It had been a long time since she had seen Berry speechless. She put on her sunglasses and was about to walk away when Rachel cleared her throat.-

Santana got to the car and Quinn had her iPod in. It was never good sign when she resorted to headphones. Santana reached across the center console and pulled the chord from her ears and began to drive.

As much as Quinn wanted to distance herself from the situation, she couldn't. "Everything okay back there?" she questioned while looking out the window.

"It will be," Santana stated with a small nod and then sighed. "And I want to apologize... I know how you feel about man hands and Treasure Trail."

Quinn smirked and turned on the radio in the silent car. It was understood that Santana was forgiven. And at that, Santana smirked. Quinn didn't know the end of the conversation. She just needed to know that it would be okay.

-Rachel cleared her throat and Santana peered over her sunglasses at the tiny creature. "I'll have you know that I am not some sort of stalker, Santana. And I will give her appropriate time and space._ But,_ I want you to know this. She's the one. She's my only. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get it right this time around."

Santana smirked and used her middle finger to push her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose. "Tell me something I don't know, Berry."


End file.
